Title: Restricted Freedom
Universe: Tokio Hotel (Real Person Fiction).
Theme/Topic: Total Power Exchange, a close examination.
Characters: Bill and Tom focused.
Warnings/Spoilers: Incest, BDSM, punishment, spanking, total power exchange.
Word Count: WIP - constantly expanding.
Time: WIP. It's been about a year so far XD
Summary: To both Bill and Tom, control is key; it's how they work together. Bill takes it, without or without permission, over everything from clothes to food to songs to bedtime. Tom gives it, freely and wholehearted to his brother - what Bill thinks is best for him is best; whether it is girls, outfits, where they eat or sleep. How they have sex. He is not Master, he is not Sir. He is Bill, and Tom loves him.
Dedication: Nobody in particular - for a anon kink meme prompt which requested this:
I'd love Tom to be fully mentally under Bill's control.
They'd look outside like we see them, but behind the scenes Bill controls everything in Tom's life and Tom is happy about that. You can choose how far or in which things you want to focus on in this fic, but basically total control over everything (like Tom's looks, clothes, using bathroom, everything). Bill also controls Tom's relationships and sex life (chooses Tom's gf's, random sex partners...) and in their own not-so-platonic relationship. Tom is happy to give all his control to Bill and it makes him feel safe. Sometimes Bill plays with Tom's OCD (messes things up, re-arrange things like Tom's need to color match) and it causes Tom anxiety, but in the end they are really happy together like this.
This is not about an abusive relationship, but very loving and caring one.here for list of distribution places.
Patience and Rewards:
It’s exactly what Bill wanted.
Across from him, Georg’s eyes are dark and he’s restless, searching the crowd below their VIP area for someone in particular - Tom sees him go from the bar area, to the dance floor, to the booths and he grins as he settles on a girl; conquest chosen.
“See you back at the hotel!” He shouts over the din of the music and beside Tom, Bill nods, a graceful hand waving him goodbye. Gustav nods, points wordlessly to the floor below and then he’s gone too, trying to find a girl too.
No doubt they’ll both be successful at it.
Tom is left alone with Bill - the security at the door is on the other side, and the window is one way glass - this is their own little world and Bill is in charge; he orders drinks for the both of them from the waiter who escorted them up here, and Tom settles back into the seat, wondering what will happen tonight.
On the other side of the mirrored window, the club is pounding, the bass causing the glass to vibrate and Tom looks down - tries to see if there’s anyone down there he recognises apart from his band mates but there’s nobody - it’s a mass of bodies, seething and undulating, bright lights scattered across the floor and over people’s faces.
“See anything you like?” Bill asks, slipping a hand around his neck. Tom shakes his head, “Nobody? Aww, come on, Tom. Play with me.” He purrs and Tom shivers. So Bill wants that today?
“I don’t know.” He says, and Bill hold up a shot glass to his lips, and he tips his head back, swallows the vodka in one. “I - there’s so many...” There must be at least a hundred girls down there at least, maybe more and Tom can’t just pick one. He wants them all.
“Come here.” Bill slides out of the booth, holds his hand out to Tom who takes it, lets himself be dragged out of his seat and over to the window.
Bill presses him against the railing, crowds in behind him and Tom is glad of the one way mirror. He’s hard, pressed against the glass like this, and Bill is in the same condition as he forces another shot against Tom’s lips and it clinks on the lip ring there.
Bill’s lip ring.
“Drink.” He whispers and Tom feels the touch of tongue against the shell of his ear. He opens his mouth, lets Bill empty the glass and he swallows obediently.
Bill’s hand around his throat tightens ever so slightly as a reward.
“Good boy.” he hears, “Shall I pick for you?” Tom nods. Bill’s always picked his girls for him, always. Right from the start - his very first girlfriends, handpicked by Bill before he even knew he needed one and tonight is no different. He trusts Bill. Knows he’ll only pick the best for him. Bill has a knack for it. “How about... her?” A French nail points to the bar, the only fully lit area below. “The red head, in the yellow.” Tom peers down, trying to spot her and then - yes, her... She’s tall, willowy - he likes the look of her already; she looks feisty but then -
“Or that one?” Bill taps the glass over another girl’s head, a girl with blue hair and wearing a little black dress, oh the - yes... Little hint of wildness come out to play, nobody wears blue hair when they’re a wallflower, and Tom likes girls with that wild side... “Or what about... her...?” Bill points to the booth over the other side, to a woman and she is a woman, she got to be at least ten years older than Tom but she’s hot as fuck.
He wants her.
“Do you want a girl tonight?” Bill moans in his ear, pressing his cock into Tom’s backside and he can feel that Bill is hard. “Do you want a little girl or do you want a woman?”
“W-woman.” Tom stutters. He’s getting bored of girls who don’t know what they’re doing - he wants someone who knows how to treat a guy properly, not have to be walked through everything. Bill knows that - they’ve had so many talks in the few months; working out Tom’s changing preferences and what Bill can do help him with them.
David nearly died though when he first saw Tom with a woman, not a teenager.
“Good boy,” Bill croons in his ear, and Tom feels his hand sneak down, grip at his cock. He’s hard as a rock already but...
“The ring?” Bill asks.
“Still on.” He hasn’t taken it off and Bill knows that but he’s asking for Tom to confirm it anyway. He’s been wearing a cock ring for days now, impatient for Bill to let him come but he can’t, not without permission.
“Very good boy,” Bill says, kissing at that spot just behind his ear, and Tom’s knees threaten to buckle. He has to hold onto the bar in front of him. “Such a good boy; you might even get a reward tonight.”
“R-Really?” God, he would love to come.
“Mmm. Keep up your good behaviour and we’ll see.” Bill voice is full of promise and Tom sighs. Not now, but soon. He can live with that. “Here.” A third shot, this one darker and when Bill tips it down his throat, Tom tastes the fire of whiskey. He gasps and Bill chuckles softly in his ear as he turns away, puts the glass down. “Strong stuff, hmm?”
“Yeah.” It’s strong but good and Tom can feel it settling in, warming his belly, making him feel hot and ready. Bill’s hands reach down for the hem of his shirt, slide underneath and Tom shudders. His hands are cold from holding the drinks, slightly wet too and Tom throws his head back, resting it on Bill’s shoulder. “Bill!” he cries out.
“Shush...” Bill whispers in his ear as he reaches up, finds Tom’s chest and then Tom bucks forward as ice cold fingers press against his nipples, pinching them gently. “Say hello Tom.” Bill chuckles, and he really can’t help it; he moans out hello on autopilot, helpless as Bill rubs his thumbs over his nipples, caressing at them, and goddamnit, it’s not his fault he’s fucking sensitive and he strains for release but there’s nothing. A hand reaches down, squeezes gently at the bulge in his jeans but he bucks into it, unable to help himself. “A-ah, no. Don’t be bad.” The warning in those words is clear.
“Sorry.” Tom whispers it but he knows his brother heard. The caress on his bare belly, just flicking across the bottom of his ribs is enough to tell him that.
“Go on.” Bill licks a long stripe down his neck, and then “Go and get her. She’s waiting for someone interesting. Go and entertain her.”
“Dancing, only.” Bill says and Tom likes the possessiveness in that tone; it makes him feel daring. “No removing the ring and you may not play with her... downstairs.”
Tom would pout but he’s been cooped up for too long. Dancing and grinding and rubbing is enough for him, especially if it gets him rewarded tonight.
Bill lets him out of the embrace only after thoroughly devouring his mouth, making him sigh and moan and beg for more kisses but all he gets is a slap to his backside and a shove to the door.
“Tom.” He turns back, one hand on the handle. “I’ll be watching.”